


Daylight Robbery

by plapcat



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Just Friends, M/M, Underage Drinking, the ending is a bit shippy though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 11:30:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8977912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plapcat/pseuds/plapcat
Summary: “You should’ve been up there with me.”
or, a conversation following the finals.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work I've posted in a long time; please be gentle. I wrote this in about... half an hour? And it's entirely unbeta'd. I just needed to get it off my chest lmao.

“You should’ve been up there with me.”

Otabek turned, facing the small blond. Based on the way Yuri swayed from side to side just slightly, the older man could tell he was a few drinks under.

So much for Russian tolerance, he thought, before redirecting his attention back to the angry boy.

“What?”

“You were robbed.” Yuri’s voice came out as no more than a hiss, one hand snaking up to grab the front of Otabek’s shirt. “It shoulda been you an’ me up on the podium. Instead, it was freakin’ Pig, making the worst puppydog eyes at Viktor I’ve ever seen, and JJ, doing… whatever JJ was doing. I almost barfed.” In fact, he looked like he was on the verge of it now, although for an entirely different reason. “If it was you instead of JJ, I could’ve put on a happy face, but…”

Otabek reached out, gently detangling Yuri’s fingers from his clothing. Gentle, gentle. He had to be gentle with the drunk boy. “JJ earned his spot up there just as much as you and Katsuki did.”

“He turned a quad into a single! He must’ve bribed the judges, or—or...”

“His skate was significantly harder than anyone else’s. He got bronze just by attempting what he did.”

“Then your routine should’ve been harder, too!” A server walked by, carrying a tray of champagne glasses, and before Otabek could react, Yuri had grabbed a pair. One he downed instantly and the other was shoved at Otabek. “You’re ten times the skater JJ is. You could’ve landed every move in his routine with your eyes closed!”

Otabek laughed softly, drawing Yuri away from several curious banquet-goers who turned at his outburst. He led him off to a hallway, distanced from the noise and sights. “You put too much confidence in me, Yura. I’m not that good.”

“For what you’ve had to work with, you’re amazing.” Otabek immediately knew what Yuri was talking about, and felt a little smile tug on his lips. “You haven’t even had a real coach before and you got to the finals! If you’d just had someone to teach you, like Yakov and Lilia did for me, or…”

“Or Viktor for Katsuki?”

Otabek’s quiet question cut through the haze in Yuri’s mind, and the blond shook his head. “No, not like that. Viktor abandoned everything to teach a washed-up old man. You need someone with experience, who can take what you are and mold you into who you’re meant to be—come to Russia.”

“What?”

“Come learn with me. In Russia. Viktor’s coming back, which means Pig will probably be there, too. Come on, Beka. I won’t be able to stand their mushy faces being pressed together alone.”

Calmly, Otabek set down his flute of champagne and shook his head.

“Why not?”

He could hear the way Yuri’s voice broke at the question, as if everything had been riding on that simple question. When Otabek looked back at him, though, his expression was carefully composed. If they’d known each other better, if Otabek had taken the plunge and approached him somewhere in between those five years of separation, he might be able to decipher what lay beyond those blue-green eyes. As it was, they were a blank slate of emotion.

“We are friends, aren’t we?”

His breath caught in his throat, and he had to look away. Yes, they were friends. The best of friends, in fact. Neither of them had much experience with this whole friendship thing; maybe moving to another country to train was what friends did?

“I can’t.”

That just seemed to frustrate Yuri more. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why not?”

“Yuri, I’ve only just gotten back to Kazakhstan. Now that I’ve reached the Finals and shown that I can compete with the best, maybe…”

Understanding seemed to dawn on Yuri, and he slowly nodded. “Maybe you’ll finally get a coach meant for you.”

Uncomfortable with how quiet it had become, Otabek rushed on. “But I will visit you, when time permits.”

Yuri lifted his head, frowning. “But that’s a long trip.”

“It’s what friends do, right?”

The question was mostly rhetorical, and a bright smile dawned on Yuri’s lips. It seemed to light up his whole face, and for just a moment, Otabek was tempted to reach out and touch.

No. Not yet. He didn’t want to destroy this precious thing they were building by moving too fast. Instead, he contented himself with shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants, fingers digging into the material.

One day, if their friendship continued, maybe it would bloom into something more. He just had to be patient. It shouldn’t be that hard; he’d waited this long.

But now he knew the warmth of Yuri’s smile, and he wasn’t sure that he could ever forget that.

“Friends, then.” And Yuri stuck out his hand, his expression fierce determination.

Otabek reached out his own hand, closing the distance and giving Yuri’s a firm shake. “Friends.”

Yuri lit up once more and slung an arm around Otabek’s shoulders, trying to tug the older man back to the banquet. “Well, come on then, friend. If I have to suffer through this terrible party, I may as well have you by my side.”

And Otabek went.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I love this pairing. Maybe I'll write some more of them sometime.
> 
> Either way, for now, I gotta run off and celebrate the birth of a being I don't believe in with a bunch of people who do, so. Au revoir!


End file.
